Part 2
MY LIFE
What I choose to do is no concern to you and your friends
Where I lay my hat may not be my home
But I will last on my own
Cause it's me and my life
-Dido-
~***~
A few hours later, I wake up securely wrapped in Michael's arms. Looking around,
I see that the room has lost most of its magical appeal. The walls are bare and
the candles burn low. Sighing, I disentangle myself from Michael and pull his
discarded black t-shirt over my head.
I feel my way into the bathroom. The bathroom light is harsh and unforgiving. My
hair rivals Michael's in its unruliness. My makeup has long since worn off
revealing the dark circles under my eyes that come from too many sleepless
nights. I turn on the facet and splash some cold water on my face. Damn, how the
morning after stings.
Well, it's not quite morning yet. Thankfully, I still have a few hours left with
Michael. Barring any miracles, I won't be able to sneak away to him for another
two weeks. It's rather sad how I live my life in anticipation of our clandestine
meetings. I can't help but remember how things got to this point…
It all started about a year after graduation. Personally, Michael and I were
having a hard time then. Neither of us had any idea what to do with ourselves.
Liz and Max got married as soon as they had their diplomas in hand. Luckily,
they didn't elope or else I'm sure Mr. Parker would've had Max shot. They became
good little college students- Liz going premed so she could be the official
alien doctor and Max deciding on teaching. I'm still not clear why. Isabel and
Jesse were the perfect married couple.
Then Isabel got pregnant.
It was Tess all over again. Isabel was hopeful at first. She kept going on about
how she didn't think she'd ever be a mother so young, but she was still happy.
It was horrible to watch. Isabel found out right away; her stomach started
glowing. Jesse, thankfully, knew about Isabel's Czechoslovakian status already
so he wasn't too freaked. Everything seemed okay for the first few weeks. Then,
she started to get sick. No one said anything, but we all knew what was going to
happen. The baby couldn't survive on earth.
Two months later, she had a miscarriage.
Everyone took it pretty rough. Isabel, of course, was heartbroken. But she had
Jesse for unconditional support, as well as her parents. Though Mrs. Evans
didn't know the full story, the baby being otherworldly and all that, she was
there for Isabel every step of the way. Max and Liz retreated into their own
soul mate-space, as I like to call it. They were attached at the hip for weeks
after the fact. Liz told me, in that annoyingly calm voice of hers, that her and
Max decided to still try later in life. After all, we didn't know how alien
babies worked in human wombs.
Michael, I think, took it harder than anyone.
Seeing Isabel in pain freaked him out. He wouldn't talk to me about it, just
went out into the desert and blew up rocks. Our relationship was at a weird
stage during that time. Neither of us was ready to get married or even move in
together. We could hardly decide what we wanted to do that week, let alone plan
the future.
Finally, he came over to my house one day, clearly pissed. He proceeded to break
up with me, telling me that we were going nowhere in our relationship. He
couldn't offer me everything; he would probably kill me, etc. Basically, his
usual diatribe. I, of course, flipped out in response. We spent two hours
screaming at each other over everything that had ever gone wrong with us. We
both said some pretty hurtful things that day.
I suppose it was just the stress of facing life and the sadness over Isabel's
miscarriage. But, being the stubborn types, neither of us were willing to give
in. Michael stormed out. Fed up with my life, I packed a bag and moved away from
Roswell, much to my mother's dismay.
I ended up in Santa Fe where I got a job at a local art gallery. I met Scott a
few months later. No girl is supposed to marry her rebound boyfriend. But, I
guess, I wasn't up to the challenge of loving someone else. Not like I love
Michael.
I love Scott. Not the passionate, angry love I have with Michael, but a sweet,
friendly love. He's a good man. He deserves a good wife, but he's stuck with me.
I guess I married him because he loves me so much and treats me like a queen. I
never had to train him to bring me flowers or beg him for a romantic dinner.
He's the perfect guy; he reminds me a lot of Alex, less geeky though, and he's a
lawyer.
About a year after Scott and I got married, around my twenty-third birthday, Liz
dropped a bomb. She was pregnant. And it was normal. She had no idea until she
was about a month along, no glowing belly or painful sickness in sight.
I was crushed. Happy for my best friend, but upset I married a guy I only sorta
loved because Michael thought we had no future and I was too defiant to prove
him wrong.
I was staying at my mom's house for the weekend, visiting with Liz. He came to
my window, somehow knowing how I felt. I hadn't seem him since the day we broke
up. We made love that night, quietly because my mom and Jim were down the hall.
We never talked about the fact that I was married.
Just over a year later, we still don't talk about it.
I sigh and flick off the bathroom light, not wanting to face reality any longer.
Michael appears behind me in the mirror, eyes heavy with sleep and desire. Any
look Michael gives me is filled with desire, no matter what emotion it's paired
with. I love that.
I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck, eager to feel his skin against
mine. I still have a few more hours to pretend.
Much later, after I've had my way with Michael, the sun is high and it's time
for me to go.
"I hate this. Can't you stay a little longer?" Michael is at my heels as I
travel to the door, like a little puppy.
When I turn to answer him, he traps me between him and the door. Not an entirely
unpleasant position to be in. But I have to give him an exasperated look, after
all, he broke one of the rules: Don't talk about life outside of our world.
"Michael…"
"I know, I know. When will I see you again?"
"I don't know. I don't have another scouting trip for two weeks."
He frowns. Apparently that's too long for him too. "You could always come to
Roswell…"
I shake my head. That's way too risky. We've only tried it once before, meeting
at his apartment, but Isabel came crashing in at the crack of dawn with
breakfast. Luckily, Michael was able to pass off the presence of high heels and
a discarded blouse in his living room as a one-night stand. She was out of there
in a flash. Plus, there's always the risk of someone seeing me at his place
while in such a small town. As far as everyone else is concerned, Michael and I
have only talked a few times since I got married.
"I'll call you if something comes up."
He nods. "I'll miss you."
"Me too." I try to keep my eyes from tearing up, but it's no use. God, why does
this have to be so hard?
Michael pulls me into a fierce hug, burrowing his face in my neck. I hate that
we need each other like this. He releases me after a moment and places a soft
kiss on my forehead.
"Bye, Michael." I try to avoid his gaze as I duck out of the room, not wanting
him to see how much these goodbyes hurt me.
"Bye, Maria."
Hello, my name is Maria DeLuca-Myers. I recruit artists for a second-rate art
gallery. I cheat on my husband. I count the days until I'm in the arms of my
lover. I cry in the hallways of two-star hotels. This is my life. Sad, isn't it?